
Bits and Pieces
My Mother, My Brother, and Me
Categories
Nonfiction, Biography, Memoir, Mental Health, Audiobook, Family, Autobiography, Biography Memoir, Humor, African American
Content Type
Book
Binding
Hardcover
Year
2024
Publisher
Blackstone Publishing, Inc.
Language
English
ASIN
B0CP6DX73L
ISBN13
9798200920235
File Download
PDF | EPUB
Bits and Pieces Plot Summary
Introduction
In the heart of New York City's Chelsea projects, a unique family nucleus emerged: a mother, her son, and her daughter. They lived in a five-room apartment on the sixth floor of a twelve-story building, surrounded by 2,400 neighbors of every color, religion, and culture. Though materially poor, they were rich in spirit and possibility. For at the center of this family stood Emma Johnson, a woman of extraordinary vision who refused to let her children believe that their world was confined to the concrete boundaries of public housing. Emma's philosophy was simple yet revolutionary: "The confines of this neighborhood do not represent the confines of your life." This became the foundation upon which her daughter, known to the world as Whoopi Goldberg, would build her remarkable life. Through Emma's unwavering belief in her children's potential and her commitment to exposing them to art, culture, and human diversity, she crafted a legacy that transcended their economic circumstances. The story of this singular mother and the tight-knit family she created reveals how love, laughter, and liberation from society's expectations can shape a person capable of changing the world around them – not despite their beginnings, but because of them.
Chapter 1: The Nucleus Family: Mother, Brother, and Me
Emma Johnson and her son Clyde were already a lockstep duo by the time Whoopi arrived on the scene. This tight-knit triangle formed the backbone of Whoopi's early life, creating a foundation of security and love that would shape her entire worldview. Emma refused to reveal her age to anyone, maintaining an air of mystery that only added to her enigmatic presence. The young Whoopi thought her mother was "the most interesting, beautiful, funny, and wise person in the world," and her brother Clyde "the coolest sibling anybody could possibly have." Their life in the Chelsea projects might have been classified as poor by economic standards, but Whoopi never felt deprived. Her mother made their modest five-room apartment feel like "the entrance gate to a big, interesting world" where anything was possible. Emma's philosophy was clear: "Listen. The confines of this neighborhood do not represent the confines of your life. You can go and do and be whatever you want. But, whatever you choose, be yourself." This powerful message became the bedrock of Whoopi's self-confidence and ambition. Despite living on a tight budget as a single mother, Emma created magical experiences for her children. She would figure out which days were free at New York's galleries and museums, sending Clyde and Whoopi off to see the newest exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the American Museum of Natural History. Their home was filled with music – from Lady Day to the Beatles, Pavarotti to the Supremes – exposing the children to a diverse cultural soundtrack. Emma even managed to score tickets to see the Beatles at Shea Stadium in 1965, taking nine-year-old Whoopi along with 56,000 other fans. Emma's approach to parenting combined practicality with an abundance of laughter. When faced with challenges, her attitude was simple: "You've got two choices. You can waste a lot of time complaining, or you can get up and figure out how to fix it." This no-nonsense philosophy was balanced with moments of pure joy, like the time at Rockaways' Playland amusement park when she, Clyde, and Whoopi ended up tumbling and laughing inside a rotating barrel until a carnival worker had to turn it off to get them out. Life wasn't without its difficulties. Emma worked night shifts as a practical nurse at the French Hospital to support her family, leaving the children under Clyde's watchful eye. Although Whoopi would later understand the immense pressure her mother faced – "never getting to stand still for a minute and let someone else handle it all for a while" – as a child, she felt completely secure in her mother's capable hands. The family found joy in simple pleasures: returning empty soda bottles for spending money, sharing penny candy, and occasional trips to Coney Island where they'd spend the whole day walking the boardwalk, riding the attractions, and eating Nathan's hot dogs as the sun set. In this nucleus of three, Whoopi learned her most important early lessons: that she was loved unconditionally, that her potential was limitless, and that laughter could lighten even the heaviest load. It was a foundation that would serve her well through the unexpected challenges that lay ahead.
Chapter 2: Growing Up in the Projects: A World of Possibilities
New York City in the 1960s and '70s was a vibrant cultural epicenter, and Emma Johnson made sure her children experienced its riches despite their limited means. Every cultural event was just a fifteen-cent bus or subway ride away – ten cents for kids. The family would attend Shakespeare in the Park, visit art galleries on free days, and even make their way to Radio City Music Hall to see the Rockettes. These weren't occasional treats but regular parts of their lives, expanding the children's worldview far beyond the concrete walls of their housing project. The Chelsea projects themselves were a microcosm of diversity, with families of every ethnicity and background living side by side. Children played freely in the communal spaces, watched over by the ever-present eyes of neighborhood mothers. "You couldn't get away with anything," Whoopi recalls. "By the time you rode the elevator to your own floor, your mom would already know what had happened and when." This communal childrearing created a sense of both accountability and security. Summers brought their own kind of magic. When the New York heat became unbearable, the buildings would "peel open like a can of sardines," with families bringing chairs and folding tables outside to catch any possible breeze. Children would be sent outside after breakfast and told to come home when the sun went down. Sometimes the local Italian ice vendor would appear with his cart, or teenagers might uncap a fire hydrant to create a makeshift cooling station in the scorching heat. These simple pleasures became treasured memories. Through programs like the Fresh Air Fund, Whoopi and Clyde were able to escape the city heat and attend Camp Madison-Felicia in Putnam Valley. There, city kids learned to swim in lakes, row boats, and toast marshmallows over campfires. These experiences broadened their horizons in different ways, connecting them with nature and activities far removed from their urban environment. Without helicopter parenting or excessive safety measures, the children whittled wood with jackknives and dove off docks without life jackets – freedoms that seem almost unimaginable today. Emma's resourcefulness meant that even Christmas became magical. Despite tight finances, she would transform their apartment with decorations that seemed to appear from nowhere. A fresh-cut evergreen tree would mysteriously appear in the living room, windows would be covered with spray-snow stencils, and on Christmas morning, the area under the tree would be filled with presents that hadn't been there the night before. How she managed to hide all these items in their small apartment and set everything up overnight remained a mystery that Emma never revealed, simply saying with a smile, "It's all magical as far as I know." Throughout these formative years, Clyde was Whoopi's constant companion and protector. Six years her senior, he would include his little sister in his adventures despite his friends' protests. "I like taking Caryn," he would tell them, using her birth name. "If you don't want to go, then that's okay. But I'm taking Caryn." This bond between siblings created another layer of security and acceptance that reinforced what their mother taught them daily: that they were loved, valued, and capable of anything they set their minds to.
Chapter 3: When Mom Was Gone: Facing Trauma and Building Resilience
The secure world of Whoopi's childhood shattered unexpectedly one afternoon when she returned from elementary school to find her mother in a deeply disturbed state. Emma was barefoot, wearing a black trench coat over a white slip, her hair completely disheveled – something the normally composed woman would never allow. The scene turned terrifying when Emma turned on the oven and put her head inside. Nine-year-old Whoopi pulled her mother away and, following Emma's instructions, ran to get a neighbor for help. Shortly after, paramedics took Emma away, and she would not return home for two years. No one explained to Whoopi what had happened. She only knew that her mother was in the hospital and children weren't allowed to visit. Later, she would understand that Emma had been sent to Bellevue Hospital for a nervous breakdown. During Emma's absence, various relatives stepped in to help care for the children, but Whoopi has few memories of this period – a psychological protection against the trauma of her mother's sudden disappearance. "I kind of remember my mom's cousin Arlene staying with us, some other cousins coming and going for a while, and our father being there off and on," she recalls, but the details are hazy. What remained clear was Whoopi's survival strategy: "Don't ask anyone for anything. Be good. Don't cause any trouble. Stay to yourself. As long as your brother is here, you'll be okay." This self-protective approach became a foundational part of her character, teaching her self-reliance at a young age. She and Clyde became each other's anchors in the absence of their mother, reinforcing the sibling bond that would remain crucial throughout their lives. When Emma finally returned home two years later, she was markedly different. She seemed distant and unsure, as if trying to figure out who her children were and what she was supposed to do for them. Whoopi described the sensation as similar to the movie "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" – the woman looked and sounded like her mother, but something essential had changed. Emma no longer left the apartment on her own and seemed uncertain in familiar settings. Gradually, with her children's help, she relearned the routines of daily life, but the warmth and easy affection of the past had dimmed. It wasn't until forty years later that Whoopi learned the truth about her mother's absence. During a conversation when Whoopi was in her fifties, Emma revealed a secret she had kept for decades: during her hospitalization, she had been subjected to experimental electroshock therapy, approved by her estranged husband and father. The treatment had erased much of her memory, including knowledge of her children and her previous life. When she was released, she returned to strangers – her own family – and had to piece together who she had been without letting anyone know she couldn't remember. This revelation explained Emma's transformation and her lifelong refusal to seek medical care afterward. "She would never work in a hospital, be taken to a hospital, see a doctor, or even a dentist ever again," Whoopi writes. "She was never going to allow anyone to make a decision regarding her future care." Despite this trauma, Emma never spoke ill of those who had made these decisions for her, maintaining her dignified approach to life's hardships. The experience of losing her mother for two years, and then adapting to the changed woman who returned, profoundly shaped Whoopi's outlook. It reinforced her self-reliance and adaptability, qualities that would serve her well in her future career. It also deepened her appreciation for her mother's quiet strength and resilience. Emma had rebuilt herself after a devastating experience, learning again how to be a mother and navigate the world without letting on how much she had lost. This silent courage would remain an inspiration to Whoopi throughout her life.
Chapter 4: Breaking Through: From Caryn Johnson to Whoopi Goldberg
The transformation from Caryn Johnson to Whoopi Goldberg began long before the stage name was adopted. As a child, Whoopi struggled with dyslexia in an era when the condition had no name or recognition. Letters appeared jumbled and jittery on the page, making reading nearly impossible. Rather than admit her difficulty, she developed a creative coping mechanism – memorizing what others read aloud and then pretending to read it herself when her turn came. Her mother never made her feel inadequate about this challenge, simply telling her that she "learned differently from other children and that was okay." Emma's unconditional support and belief in her daughter's potential created a foundation of confidence that would prove crucial for Whoopi's future career. "Listen, you can do anything you want to do. It's going to take you a little bit longer. You'll have to figure a couple of things out. But you can do that," her mother would encourage. This philosophy extended beyond academics to Whoopi's growing interest in performance and her tendency to march to her own drummer. By age eight, Whoopi was performing at the Hudson Guild Theatre in Chelsea, discovering her passion for becoming "anybody from anywhere at any time period." She found that acting allowed her to transcend the limitations that might otherwise have been imposed on her. Though she encountered setbacks – like being cast in a play by director Vinnette Carroll only to lose the role the next day – her mother's steady support helped her persevere. "There will be something else for you," Emma assured her. "You weren't expecting this, but there will be other things. You just have to keep at it." Traditional education continued to pose challenges, and by tenth grade, Whoopi approached her mother about leaving high school. Though Emma was a teacher herself and valued education deeply, she listened to her daughter's reasoning. They struck a deal: Whoopi could leave formal schooling if she committed to attending lectures, museum exhibits, and other educational activities each week. This arrangement honored both Emma's belief in the importance of learning and Whoopi's need to find her own path. After leaving the projects behind, Whoopi's journey took her to San Diego, where she worked with the San Diego Repertory Theatre. It was there that Caryn Johnson became Whoopi Goldberg – a name combining a nickname earned for her occasional flatulence ("Whoopi") with a family surname suggested by her mother ("Goldberg"). The transformation continued in Berkeley, where she joined the avant-garde theater group Blake Street Hawkeyes and developed the character-based solo show that would eventually catch the attention of director Mike Nichols. Whoopi's breakthrough came when Nichols saw her perform at the Dance Theater Workshop in New York and decided to bring her one-woman show to Broadway. The transition was meteoric – from performing for audiences of six or seven to having her solo show reviewed in the New York Times and attracting celebrities like Burt Bacharach, Norma Kamali, and even Mike Nichols himself. The day before her Broadway opening, a publicist presciently told her: "Savor the fact that nobody knows who you are right now. Because after today, that's all going to be different." Indeed, everything changed after her Broadway success. Through Nichols, she met Carl Reiner, Paul Simon, and Steve Martin. Her performance caught Steven Spielberg's attention, leading to her casting as Celie in "The Color Purple" – her first film role and one that would earn her an Academy Award nomination. The journey from projects to prominence had been realized, not by denying her uniqueness but by embracing it fully, just as her mother had always encouraged her to do.
Chapter 5: Finding My Voice: Broadway, Hollywood, and Beyond
The transition from stage to screen presented new challenges for Whoopi. Unlike theater, where performances unfold chronologically and audience reactions provide immediate feedback, film required her to adapt to a disjointed shooting schedule and find her character without the energy of a live audience. Steven Spielberg became her guide, telling her: "Look in there," pointing to the camera lens. "That's where all those people are. Right down there. You won't be able to hear them. Because if you could hear them, we wouldn't be able to do the takes. So, you have to know that they are laughing or crying silently." Her performance as Celie in "The Color Purple" earned her an Oscar nomination alongside established actresses Anne Bancroft, Jessica Lange, Meryl Streep, and Geraldine Page. Though she didn't win that first time, the recognition placed her firmly in the ranks of respected actors. "I knew I was good in the movie and that it was worthy of a nomination, but I didn't expect one," she recalls. When Geraldine Page won instead, Whoopi applauded enthusiastically, recognizing the achievement of a fellow New York actor she had long admired. Despite this auspicious beginning, Whoopi quickly encountered the limitations Hollywood placed on Black actors in the 1980s. Producers and casting directors would often tell her, "Well, you know, you are black. So, there's not a lot of stuff producers are going to hire you for." She pushed back against these constraints, arguing that actors should be able to play any role regardless of race. "I knew I could play any role, whatever was up," she writes. "It didn't matter if they wanted me to play a monkey or a monster. It didn't matter if they wanted me to play a white lady, a black lady, a yellow or brown lady. I could do them all." This confidence led her to pursue roles that weren't originally written for her. Her lead in "Burglar" was intended for Bruce Willis, "Jumpin' Jack Flash" for Shelley Long, "Fatal Beauty" for Cher, and "Sister Act" for Bette Midler. By claiming these spaces not initially created for Black women, she expanded possibilities for herself and those who would follow. Her persistence paid off when Patrick Swayze advocated for her to play Oda Mae Brown in "Ghost" after the production initially rejected her for being "too well known." The chemistry between them was undeniable, and the role earned Whoopi her second Oscar nomination – this time resulting in a win for Best Supporting Actress. The victory solidified her place in Hollywood and created a sense of belonging among her peers, especially when the other nominees in her category – Lorraine Bracco, Diane Ladd, Mary McDonnell, and Annette Bening – formed a supportive bond with her. Throughout her rise in Hollywood, Whoopi encountered industry practices that weren't designed with Black performers in mind. She faced stylists who didn't know how to work with her hair and makeup artists unfamiliar with Black skin. Rather than conform to industry expectations, she maintained her distinctive look – including her dreadlocks – and advocated for better representation behind the scenes as well as on camera. Her success allowed her to create a more stable life for her family. She asked her mother to move to California to help care for her daughter Alex while she pursued her career, and later hired her brother Clyde as her driver. These arrangements brought the three-person nucleus back together, now supported by Whoopi's success. Though she acknowledges that her frequent absences affected her relationship with her daughter, she saw her career as a means to provide opportunities none of them had before: "I knew my opportunities wouldn't hang around and wait on me. I knew they wouldn't come my way ever again."
Chapter 6: Mother's Wisdom: Lessons That Shaped My Life
Emma Johnson's wisdom went far beyond conventional parenting advice. Her philosophy combined practical life skills with profound ethical guidance, creating a foundation that would support her daughter through international fame and personal challenges alike. One of her most consistent messages was about self-reliance: "I have to be practical. I have two kids. I can't spend a lot of time crying about what I don't have. I have to figure out what I do have and go from there." This approach to life – focusing on solutions rather than complaints – became a cornerstone of Whoopi's own mindset. Emma believed deeply in treating others with kindness and respect, regardless of differences or disagreements. She taught her children to consider how their actions affected others, as when she pointed out to young Whoopi how she had excluded her friend Robert during a school trip: "I didn't say this to make you feel bad. I said this so that you will remember what this feels like, when you make somebody feel bad." These early lessons in empathy shaped Whoopi's interactions throughout her life, even when navigating the sometimes cutthroat world of Hollywood. Personal authenticity was another key value Emma instilled. She told Whoopi early on: "If you insist on being an individual, it could possibly be a lot harder for you. Not everybody's going to get who you are. They're not all going to even want it around. And some folks won't want you to do what you want to do. But, if you're okay with that, then you'll be fine." This permission to be different gave Whoopi the confidence to maintain her unique perspective and style even when it didn't conform to industry expectations. Emma's approach to racism and discrimination was similarly pragmatic and forward-looking. Rather than dwelling on historical injustices, she focused on moving ahead and creating change. When young Whoopi asked about the limited portrayal of Black people in movies, Emma explained: "This is a movie. It's not historical. We were a lot of different things, but this is the way some people want to tell their stories." She encouraged her daughter to find and tell the untold stories herself someday. Even when faced with personal slights or prejudices, Emma maintained her dignity. When neighbors treated her coldly for years, then suddenly wanted to befriend her after Whoopi became famous, she responded with grace rather than resentment. She insisted on bringing these women to Whoopi's Broadway show, telling her daughter: "It's very important that I bring them to the theater. It's very important that I be the person I hope I am." This refusal to let others' behavior diminish her own standards exemplified Emma's character. Perhaps most importantly, Emma taught her children to make their own choices and live with the consequences. Whether it was deciding not to wear a winter coat despite the cold or choosing to leave high school early, she allowed Whoopi to experience the natural outcomes of her decisions. "You have to say to yourself, 'I can live with this,'" she would explain. This approach fostered independence and critical thinking, qualities that would serve Whoopi well throughout her career as she navigated complex personal and professional landscapes. Emma's wisdom extended to money management and career advice as well. She emphasized the importance of financial independence for women, telling Whoopi she "couldn't count on somebody else to take care of her" and needed to make her own money. This guidance helped Whoopi maintain control over her career and finances throughout her life, even as her success grew beyond what either of them could have imagined when living in the Chelsea projects.
Chapter 7: Loss and Legacy: Life After Mom and Clyde
The loss of her mother in August 2010 marked the beginning of a profound shift in Whoopi's life. Emma Johnson died suddenly of an aneurysm while Whoopi was performing in London, leaving her son Clyde to break the devastating news by phone. Though Whoopi had spoken with her mother via FaceTime just the day before and found her in good spirits, the unexpected loss shattered the foundation of her world. "I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that the 'just-in-case' was for real this time," she writes, referring to their habit of always ending phone calls with "I love you" just in case it was their last conversation. The grief was compounded five years later when Clyde died suddenly of an aneurysm as well. His death left Whoopi feeling truly alone for the first time. "After Clyde died, I thought, Now what? I had a hard time feeling up to doing much at all. Clyde was my beacon. He was the one person left who knew everything about me. He knew everything about our mom." With both her mother and brother gone, Whoopi lost her most authentic connections – the people who had known her from her first breath and loved her unconditionally. This dual loss created a particular kind of loneliness that even a successful career and many friends couldn't fill. "I'm lonely, but not for other people. I've got plenty of people in my life: friends, coworkers, and family... But it's different," Whoopi explains. What she missed was the nucleus family that had defined her life from the beginning – the people who knew her as Caryn, not as Whoopi Goldberg the celebrity. The grief manifested as a kind of fog or numbness that settled into her daily existence, not crippling but persistently present. Despite this profound sense of loss, Whoopi found ways to honor her mother's legacy by embodying the wisdom Emma had imparted throughout her life. She recognized her mother's voice in her head saying, "Get off the bed. Get up and go do something. Do something meaningful. You're still alive, you know? It can't be about me not being there. It can't be about your brother not being there. This is about how you're still there. What are you going to do?" This internal dialogue helped her continue moving forward, showing up for work and for her daughter and grandchildren. From her experience, Whoopi gained insights about grief that she began sharing with friends going through similar losses. She advised them that grief for a mother has no timeline or finite ending – it evolves but doesn't disappear. "It's not a grief that has an end date. It evolves, but it stays around. You know, it becomes something that hangs out in the corner. It's still nearby, every day. And sometimes it comes up and runs at you. You just have to let it do what it's going to do." The most profound legacy Emma left was her approach to life: finding joy despite difficulties, maintaining dignity in the face of challenges, and embracing individuality without apology. Whoopi continues this legacy by celebrating her mother's life through laughter and by passing on Emma's wisdom to others. She encourages those who still have parents to have important conversations while they can, to resolve differences, and to document wishes for end-of-life care before it becomes necessary. Looking back, Whoopi recognizes how extraordinarily fortunate she was to have Emma as her mother. "I know my mission to give back to her everything she had given me happened while she was alive," she writes. Emma's appreciation for every day, every opportunity, and every simple pleasure has become Whoopi's new mission: "to be more appreciative of my days, like my mom." In this way, the nucleus family continues to shape her life, even after their physical presence is gone.
Summary
The essence of Whoopi Goldberg's story lies in the extraordinary foundation built by her mother, Emma Johnson, who instilled an unshakable belief that the confines of one's circumstances need not determine the boundaries of one's life. Through poverty, single parenthood, mental health struggles, and racial barriers, Emma maintained her dignity, humor, and forward-looking perspective, creating a home where her children felt not just loved but limitlessly capable. Her philosophy – that complaints waste time better spent on solutions, that kindness costs nothing but means everything, and that authenticity trumps conformity – provided Whoopi with both the practical skills and emotional resilience needed to navigate her unique path to success. The lessons from this remarkable family nucleus extend far beyond celebrity biography into universal wisdom about human connection and resilience. Emma's approach to parenting – allowing her children to make their own choices and face their own consequences while maintaining an unwavering belief in their potential – offers a powerful model for fostering independence without sacrificing support. Meanwhile, Whoopi's reflections on grief and legacy remind us of the importance of expressing appreciation while loved ones are still present and finding ways to honor their memory through continued growth after they're gone. In sharing the intimate details of her "bits and pieces," Whoopi invites us all to recognize the profound impact of those who believe in us before we fully believe in ourselves, and how that foundation can sustain us even when they are no longer physically present in our lives.
Best Quote
“She’d call me up and say, “I just want to say thank you. This was a perfect day.” ― Whoopi Goldberg, Bits and Pieces: My Mother, My Brother, and Me
Review Summary
Strengths: The audiobook is praised for its engaging performance by the author, who shares personal stories in a relatable manner. The narrative serves as a heartfelt tribute to the author's mother and brother, celebrating the mother's resilience and dedication.\nWeaknesses: The review points out a lack of analytical depth in addressing complex issues such as mental health struggles and domestic discipline. It suggests that the book could benefit from a more critical exploration of these topics to provide a fuller understanding of the characters' complexities.\nOverall Sentiment: Mixed\nKey Takeaway: While the book is a touching homage to the author's family, it misses opportunities for deeper analysis of significant life events and challenges, which could enhance the reader's understanding of the nuanced realities faced by the author's mother.
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Bits and Pieces
By Whoopi Goldberg









